


At the end of the day

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: Rumplestiltskin and Belle don't let go of each other after he restored the sword for Gideon, and discover something vital about themselves in the process.





	

Rumplestiltskin expected Belle to remove herself from their embrace sooner rather than later, but to his relief she remains in his arms. His eyes tightly closed and his fingers clinging to her coat, he buries his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in deeply.

Despite their separation – or maybe _because_ of it – and the path which their son has chosen, all he can think of is how incredibly good it feels to be in his wife's embrace again. This might as well be the last time ever that he can bask in her warmth and softness like this, and he savors the moment as much as he can.

He doesn't want to consider that he'll in all likelihood never be with Belle again, that he won't ever be comfortable and at ease like this again. But there's no helping it, not now that he has barely seen or talked to her for weeks, let alone held her or kissed her.

If only he can somehow be the man she wants him to be, the man she _deserves._ If only he knew a way to make things right, to be back in her life; for his kisses and his touches and his mere presence in her life to be welcome again, and...

When she shifts in his arms and presses her face against his neck, Rumplestiltskin thinks for a moment that he has gotten too caught up in his daydreams. But there's nothing imaginary about her breath against his skin and the softness of her lips when she presses them against his throat.

"Sweetheart, what..." he brings out, not understanding.

"You don't want me to?" she asks quietly, her voice trembling.

Her response only confuses him further. Then again, he probably wouldn't have known what to say to her in these circumstances even if he _could_ formulate just how much he'll always long for things exactly like this.

After a few long seconds of silence, she presses her face to his throat again, kissing him there this time. Rumplestiltskin may not understand why she's doing this, but it's all the clearer to him that he'll never stop wanting this.

He shudders when she kisses his throat again, lingering there this time. It prompts him to seek out her neck as well to return the favor, trembling harder at the contact. It has her gasping his name in exactly the same way as she used to do in long gone, much better days.

They exchange one kiss after the other like this, mouths shifting closer to one another until they're only an inch away from kissing each another's lips.

"I know this isn't fair to either of us, but..." Rumplestiltskin can't tell himself that they _shouldn't_ when his wife looks at him with almost desperate eyes as she speaks. "I don't think I'll ever stop wanting you."

"I _know_ I'll never stop wanting you, sweetheart," he rasps.

He knows better than to think that this moment will somehow bring them back together, fix them somehow. But he is more than willing to accept each ounce of affection she might offer him.

"I'm so proud of what you did for Gideon," she says, twining her arms around his neck.

Rumplestiltskin nods curtly in response, although he doesn't quite agree with her. Before he can consider that, she questioningly leans in to him. He nods again, with more certainty this time.

Belle looks almost relieved, yet her movements are slow when she closes the distance between them, as if she wants to savor this as much as he does himself. Their mouths fit together as perfectly as they always have and it hardly takes them any time at all to lose themselves in a deep and slow kiss.

He doesn't hold back his groan of pleasure when the love of his life kisses him again despite the odds, especially not when she also openly voices her enjoyment. Whereas he expected her actions to become urgent, impulsive, like they so often are in moments like this, her movements remain almost languid.

It makes him only more desperate for her.

More strongly than ever wishing that he could always be surrounded by her like this, he cradles her against his chest. Belle twines her hands in his hair, pulling none too gently like she knows he loves. It doesn't feel quite the same now that he has cut his hair, but as she subsequently scratches her nails along the nape of his neck, it turns out that _that_ still feels as good as it always has.

He can't help but kiss her more urgently, rubbing the increasing hardness between his legs lightly against her belly to let her know what this is doing to him, just in case there was any doubt about that.

Rumplestiltskin has learned by now that she doesn't react to his arousal with disgust, that she _liked_ feeling him like this when they were together. Still, it comes as a surprise that she gives him a heated look rather than a rational reminder why they shouldn't be doing this after she momentarily breaks their kiss.

She looks meaningfully at the cot behind them in the back of his shop, only for both of them to tense when they spot the Blue Fairy still lying there, unconscious but mostly unharmed.

Belle looks at him questioningly and, immediately understanding her, he transports the motionless fairy back to the convent with a mere sweep of his hand. The two of them still haven't resolved this, like so many other parts of their relationship, that his wife disapproves of his magic unless its power suits her.

They have postponed those conversations already far too often, but given the way she casually begins to undress herself, they won't talk about that now either.

This doesn't prevent Rumplestiltskin from drinking in the sight of her as he gets to see her like this again despite his earlier conviction that his wife and he would never share a moment like this again. His breath and heartbeat quicken further when she pulls her blouse over her head and pushes her skirt down her legs, thoughtlessly discarding the fabric.

She's lost weight, clearly as affected by their separation as he is himself. Although there's nothing he'd rather do right then is to invite her back to the home which once was theirs and spoil her like he used to, he knows only too well that that ship has sailed.

Still, that's particularly difficult to come entirely to terms with when he spots the thin golden chain around her neck, previously concealed by her clothes... or rather, the ring which it carries. It's their _wedding_ ring, lying on her skin right above her heart.

"I stand by my decision not to be with you," she says when she's only in her underwear. "But I miss you so much, Rumple."

"I miss you too, Belle. More than I can ever tell you."

"I know. It's exactly the same for me."

Before he can tell her that he'll do whatever she wants him to do right now, she must have already read this on his face. She unhooks her bra, dropping it on the floor as well before shimmying out of her panties.

He watches her breathlessly as she sits down on the edge of the cot, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she leans backwards and spreads her legs a little. Other than the awareness that there's nothing they can do right now to save their son, the question whether they should do this or not doesn't even occur to him.

Yet more in awe of her flawless pale skin, gentle curves and welcoming smile than usual now that he hasn't seen any of it for longer than he wants to acknowledge right now, Rumplestiltskin heavily sinks down to his knees when he's right in front of her.

Belle spreads her legs further to accommodate him and he whimpers with longing when he lays his eyes on this glistening paradise. Ignoring the urge to dive right in, to drown in her, he turns to the side and lifts one of her stretched leg, pressing a lingering kiss against her ankle.

Needing no reminder that this will probably be the very last time that he gets to do this, he kisses his way up her leg almost painstakingly slowly. She encourages him with breathy sighs and intoxicating moans, but he is determined to wind both them up as much as he possibly can before fully giving in to their ever increasing desire.

Nuzzling and kissing each inch of skin he encounters, he gets until a mere inch from where he wants to be the most before withdrawing. He can't help but smirk at her, challenging her to tell him just how much she wants him, as he reaches for the foot on her other leg.

Belle groans in frustration when he changes his course before giving her what she wants, but she doesn't correct him when he starts his very gradual seduction all over again with her other leg. She is panting by the time he reaches the apex of her thighs once more, perspiration gathering on her skin. He greedily licks up each and every drop of it.

He looks up at her before finally, _finally_ burying his face between her legs after all once more. He commits the sheer need written all over her face to his memory as best as he can, telling himself that he'll at least have the memory of this for the rest of his life.

By teasing her the way he has, he has become almost as aroused as she is herself. But her pleasure is the only thing he can think of when he sweeps the flat of his tongue along the entire length of her folds, almost sobbing in relief against her now that he gets to taste her again.

Regaining some control over himself, Rumplestiltskin slows down again, stimulating her with only minimal pressure of his tongue and lips. It will be enough, like he knows it will be. At this point he doesn't know whether he's drawing this out to make it last as long as possible, or to remind both of them just how well they have gotten to know each other's bodies... how incredibly good they can make each other feel with barely any effort at all.

The way she moans his name almost continuously and the trembling of her thighs around his head intensifies sooner than he would have thought, the shortness of time and the intensity with which she reaches her peak catching him by surprise.

All his technique goes out of the window when she finds release in his mouth, clutching at his hair. He desperately drinks her down, wanting to draw out her pleasure and taste as much of it – of _her -_ as he can.

Once, he would have been proud and, indeed, very grateful and relieved to make her come undone at at all, let alone so soon. Now, he can't help but be disappointed that they've so soon reached a point where they might go their separate ways again.

Still, as her muscles no longer spasm and Belle sprawls bonelessly on the cot, her skin and even her wedding ring and its chain damp. She sighs his name in utter contentment as if she hasn't removed herself from his life at all, and he realizes that there's no reason whatsoever to stop this here.

Marveling at the way her wetness is smeared over just about the entire lower half of his face, Rumplestiltskin begins to nuzzle her most sensitive part again, determined to find out just how messy he'll be able to get the two of them.

She makes a noise of surprise which immediately turns into one of unmistakable delight. Smiling against her wet heat, he almost forgets that none of this isn't nearly as self-evident as it was until a few weeks ago.

Thrilled by how very responsive she is, the continued slowness in his movements is this time driven by the determination not to let this be too much for her. But given the way she squirms and presses herself against his face, there's no such thing.

He has the presence of mind to put a questioning finger against her opening, briefly looking up at her to confirm how much of him she wants to accept. When she nods fervently, he slides his middle finger into her, never removing his lips and tongue from where she is most reactive to him.

Rumplestiltskin almost comes undone right there and then after all when his finger is enveloped by her inner muscles, clamping down on him as her entire body does everything it can to get as much friction from him as possible. He remembers only too well what it feels like to have another, more sensitive part of him being surrounded like that.

" _More_ ," she breathes hoarsely, prompting him to push a second finger into her and, at the impatient wiggle of her hips, a third.

He crooks his fingers in the way they have discovered she likes the most, while he suckles more firmly on her precious bundle of nerves.

"Yes, Rumple, _yes_ ," she pants as he increases efforts, at the same time managing to look up from his privileged spot between her legs to take in the sight of her flushed face and heaving chest. "I can't tell you how much I've missed this... missed _you_ doing this. Yes... _YES._ Right there. _Right there_. I'm almost... _almost_..."

All her muscles tense, the wetness on his tongue increasing yet further as she gasps his name, tell-tale signs of her impending release... signs he once could only hope to inspire. But this time, half mad with desire for her after their time apart, Rumplestiltskin does something he has never done before.

He withdraws his mouth and fingers, moving back just in time to practically _feel_ her surprise and dismay when she doesn't find the pleasure which was right in her grasp.

Breathing so quickly and heavily that he fears he's hyperventilating, the sound of his blood roaring in his ears, he looks down on her with a probably almost wild look in his eyes. Not knowing what dark urge caused him to do this, he raises his hand in a gesture of surrender.

He has made his point; he has remind her as vividly as he can that he can give her such pleasure, that their bodies are so very compatible even if their choices in life are not, whether they like it or not. They both know only too well that only they can make each other feel like this.

But he obviously won't leave her like this, aching as much as he does himself. Unless, of course, that's what she asks him to do.

"Are you going to make me _beg_?!" she asks as she pushes herself up on her elbows, looking more excited at the prospect than anything else.

"I'll do whatever you want me to do, Belle."

"In that case," she says, an edge to her voice he has never heard before, "I want you to take off all your clothes and fuck me as hard as you possibly can."

Rumplestiltskin has to do a double take, barely be able to believe that his True Love is saying things like this. Granted, she has always been more forward than he, despite her initial inexperience, but she has never once said things like _this_.

"Sweetheart, what are you..."

"Only if you want to, of course!" she adds hastily, sounding a lot more like herself – or at least, like the way he has seen and known her so far.

Apparently, there's something dark and wild deep inside of the woman he thought to know as well as himself... something which, he's starting to think, has very possibly always been there.

Somehow, he has never seen it until now.

"Whatever you want, Belle," he says, realizing how true that is even if 'whatever' isn't quite what he expected. " _Whatever_ you want."

"In that case..." she says, her eyebrow suggestively raised as she looks at the tenting fabric at the front of his trousers. "Take off all your clothes _right now_ and fuck me as hard as you can."

Following her gaze, it belatedly dawns on him that he's more aroused than he has ever been, despite not even having touched her for the past minute or so. It turns out that there's a part of him that very, _very_ enthusiastically responds to her rough words and demands.

It makes him wonder whether there's a part of him as well which they haven't quite acknowledged either.

It's not like they haven't talked about things like this... eventually, long after he somewhat came to terms with the fact that she wanted him in the first place, shriveled heart, skin and experience and all.

But even when they specifically asked each other whether there were things they wanted for them to try, he was entirely convinced that he didn't want to take her this roughly, and that she wouldn't like it in a million years either.

"Tell me if you want me to go less hard? Or to stop entirely?" he asks, thoughtlessly shrugging out of his suit jacket as he carefully looks at her face.

There shouldn't ever be the slightest of misunderstanding in a situation like this, especially not now, when their relationship – or lack thereof – is already so very fragile... when they're on the verge of trying something he couldn't imagine doing until now.

"Of course," she says, her expression softening. "But I know you, even now. You would never hurt me, not even if I ask you to. It's just that now that we're apart, I've been doing a lot of thinking... and _fantasizing_... and I realized..."

"You want this."

"I want this. And I think you want this too."

"I do," he says, exhaling roughly. "By the gods, I _do_."

Something shifts then between them, as if they're at the start of something unfamiliar and slightly scary but very, _very_ exciting. Belle looks like she wants the two of them to _devour_ each other and, whether he likes it or not, he feels exactly the same way.

Looking more disheveled than he's ever been seen by her, he realizes that he very much wants this as well. He truly realizes only now just how unfounded his fear of the true depth of his desire for her has always been, even until a moment ago.

At the same time, it's like he fully sees Belle for the first time only now. Of course, he has always known how wonderful she is, but seeing her as brazen and bold and unapologetic as this... She's _sublime,_ stronger than he'll ever be, and he doesn't have to be afraid of hurting her, not like this at least, because she wants all of this yet more than he does himself.

"Rumplestiltskin, I swear, if you don't give me your cock instead of your words in this very instant..."

"As my lady commands," he replies eagerly, attacking the buttons of his dress shirt.

They _have_ found out that they like it very much indeed when she takes charge between the sheets, but there's a difference between her being on top, setting the pace and even lightly restraining him, and... well, whatever this is exactly.

"Are you _coming_ or not?" she asks, shifting to sit down on the edge of the cot. She unabashedly spreads her thighs wide and buries her fingers deep inside of herself, causing him to almost sink to his knees in reaction to the unequaled sight. "I would hate to have to do this all on my own."

He doesn't take his eyes off her for even a second as he undresses himself more quickly than he thought he could – which is still not nearly as fast enough for his liking. He's no longer ashamed of his arousal as he bares himself and, indeed, no longer bewildered by her desire for him.

"You want me to fuck you, Belle?" he asks, the crude word unfamiliar but not unpleasant on his tongue as he attempts to bridge the moment between the now and the second they can actually do what they're talking about.

"Yes! I want you to make me come harder than I've ever done in my life."

It's ironic, really, how most of the time they were together was tainted by his insecurities, that he was finally confident and fully at ease with her in intimate moments only right before they ended their relation.

It's cruel, almost, that they discover something new and vital about each other when it might as well be too late. But he isn't thinking of that any longer, not now that Belle is touching herself right in front of him in broad daylight and made very clear what she wants from him, more freely than she has ever done.

It's a freedom she found not because she changed, but because both of them did, finally being brutally honest with each other about their desires for each other.

"You want me to fuck you so hard that you'll scream my name?" he demands as he shoves his boxer shorts down his legs.

"Fuck yes," she says, withdrawing her fingers from herself and moving back onto the cot, onto her back, more than ready for him to join her.

For once, Rumplestiltskin isn't bothered by his limp as he makes his way towards her with some difficulty, nor does he feel any discomfort when her eyes hungrily roam over him as he steps towards her in the unforgiving light.

"Get on your knees," he commands, to his surprise already getting used both to his choice of words and the way tone with which he addresses her when he realizes that the position she wordlessly offered won't quite do for what they have in mind. Which she doubtlessly already knows herself. "Knees on the floor, hands on the cot. _Now_."

He takes the pillow from the bed and hands it to her, even – especially – now not forgetting her comfort. Despite their intentions, despite their desire, they smile gently at each other for a moment.

He kneels down behind her as she rests her knees on the pillow on the floor and her arms on the blankets on the cot. He shoves his suit jacket underneath his knees to protect them against the hard floorboards.

If only he had realized before that all his trusted layers should be discarded in order to progress their relationship, if not quite so literally.

"Do you want my cock, Belle?" he demands, getting as caught up in this as she is herself.

By the gods, he is _growling,_ as if the cursing isn't bad enough – except it isn't, for wetness is dripping down her legs before he has even touched her, which has never happened before, and there's a look in her eyes which alone could undo him if he let it.

" _Yes!_ " she exclaims, spreading her legs and rubbing her rear against his groin.

He grasps her hips and pushes them against the cot, holding her still, if only because he won't be able to do any of the things they want to do if she continues stimulating him like this.

"Do you want my cock right now?" he asks, less strongly this time, one last time needing to be absolutely certain before proceeding.

" _YES!"_ she cries out with the same firmness as before, the sound turning into a wail as he takes himself in hand and presses lightly against her dripping opening, teasing her.

"Tell me how much you want my cock," he adds, practically purring those previously unthinkable words as he plasters his front to her back and presses his face into her tousled hair, starting to enjoy her responses to him as he talks like this more and more.

"I want your cock so much that I'll go mad if you don't give it to me _now_ ," she exclaims, managing to rub herself against him after all. "Make me yours again. _Please_."

Perspiration dripping from his nose and the ends of his hair onto her already slippery back, he plunges into her sodden depths without further ado. They both cry out loudly as he finally fills her, much more roughly so than ever before.

Rumplestiltskin would have lost himself immediately if he hadn't touched himself each and every night under the cover of darkness, imagining that his hand was hers. As it is, he can only barely hold on now that they're saying and doing things he couldn't have imagined himself doing with anyone, let alone his precious True Love.

" _Yes_ , sweetheart. I'm yours. Forever."

"As you are mine. Forever."

There's no more room for talking of any kind while he clings to her hips for leverage as he pounds into her from behind, his upper body sliding over hers. Her high-pitched moans and the way she meets each and every one of his uncontrolled thrusts tells him that she's enjoying this as much as he is himself.

With her encouragement he takes her harder than he ever has before, harder than he ever imagined himself doing, and thought himself physically capable of in the first place. He wishes that it could go on forever, the two of them for once entirely open and raw, moving in perfect sync together, but the pressure low in his belly is building faster than ever before.

He maneuvers his right hand between her legs, rubbing furiously, his fingers slick with her arousal. His other arm goes around her body, cupping her breast, squeezing it as roughly as he dares. She spasms in his arms, practically mewling. Still, she isn't there yet, begging him for more, whereas he is almost at that precious precipice himself already.

"Please, sweetheart," he brings out, not wanting to let her down in this regard at least. " _Please_."

Slamming into her one last time, he _howls_ her name as he can't help but spend himself, the feeling of it yet more overwhelming than he knew it could be. His hips jerk helplessly into hers, his fingers twitching uncontrollably rather than purposefully given her the pleasure she deserves.

Still, she tightens around him and shrieks his name as he somehow sends her flying over the edge after all, wetness gushing from where they are joined. Rumplestiltskin collapses on top of her, still inside of her and utterly spent, but not before making certain that her face isn't pressed into the mattress as she catches her breath.

"I love you so much," he whispers into her hair, never having meant those words more.

"I love you too," she murmurs back, tilting her face towards his as she continues to move lightly against him, prolonging their pleasure.

He kisses her softly as he moves with her, nuzzling the delicate golden chain around her neck. He groans when his body continues to tremble and pulse, fire coursing through his veins after the most passionate lovemaking they ever shared. The tender declaration of love reminds him however of the beginning of their relationship in this world, when everything was as right between them as he supposes it can be.

Then again, the understanding and fire they have found together now seem like a very acceptable substitutes for the much more blind love they once shared.

Belatedly realizing that he's lying on top of her and that he's pressing her bodily into the mattress, both their knees still on the clothing littered floor, Rumplestiltskin gets up as quickly as his wholly exhausted body can. With some difficulty, he clambers onto the cot, offering her a questioning hand.

"Thank you so much for this," he gratefully says when she accepts his hand to join him on the small bed. "That was something else."

"That's one way to describe it. That was... _incredible_ ," she says, her smile tired but so very satisfied and her voice more hoarse than he's ever heard it. "Thank _you_ for getting along with it."

Despite the indescribable completion he just found, he twitches once more at the sight of her, wholly debauched. Her skin is flushed and damp all over her body, her legs visibly shaking, her inner thighs considerably messier than he has ever seen them before.

"Shall I clean that up for you?" he offers.

It's one of his favorite parts of their usual aftermath, carefully removing the messiness of their coupling with one of his pocket squares, for which she has an inexplicable preference.

"Let's leave it for now?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he smiles at her.

He decides that there's definitely something to be said for this as well, an almost feral possessiveness overtaking him at the sight of his seed dripping down her thighs, thickly mixing with the evidence of her own release.

He helps her get onto the cot, and between the two of them they manage to arrange their by now heavy limbs underneath the blanket. They face one another as they slowly come down from their unprecedented high, reaching for each other with still quivering hands to stroke one another's faces.

It's not the loving embrace they once used to share afterwards, but it's a whole lot better than anything which seemed possible only an hour ago.

"Did you want something like this all along?" he asks. "Something so... rough?"

Rumplestiltskin can't quite wrap his mind around what just happened, but it begins to occur to him that there was a new kind of honesty in their lovemaking, in all its crudeness and harshness, that there never had been before.

"No, I didn't. Not from the beginning at least," she replies thoughtfully. "I _love_ how gentle and careful and tender you usually are. I still do, please don't get me wrong. It's just... you were always acting like... almost like I'm a statue on a pedestal or a china doll, a _dream_ , which could break at the lightest touch."

He nods in agreement. When he dealt for her, she was like another part of his collection, pretty and rare, but even after that she was more someone to be admired and worshiped rather than to be treated like a person of flesh and blood.

"I'm not the goddess you often seem to think I am. I'm not perfect, I don't deserve such adoration. No one does. I'm just a woman who... well, who has certain desires. I've always known I love the man and the beast in you, Rumple, even if I didn't always want to acknowledge it. It's just that, from the beginning... I think I loved the beast in you more than I knew I did, certainly more than I admitted either to you or myself."

"Until now," he concludes.

"Until now. And here we are."

"Here we are," he echoes.

"Let's stay like this for a little while?" she asks, shifting a little closer to him.

"I'd love to," he says, moving towards her as well.

She takes the invitation to burrow into him. He closes his eyes in gratitude and appreciation as they cuddle like they once did, almost as if all the misery of the recent past didn't happen. He lazily strokes his hands over her back, vaguely thinking that, perhaps, they have found a new starting point rather than that their relationship has come to an end.

"Rumple, do you think... I think we can conclude that there are things about ourselves that we haven't acknowledged yet, things we perhaps didn't even _know_ yet, let alone shared with each other. Until now."

He hums in agreement, rarely having been more glad that she is thinking along the same lines as he is himself.

"If we can be open and completely honest about _this_... maybe we can finally be entirely truthful about other things as well. About _everything_."

"I would like that very much, sweetheart. How about we talk soon? Have a conversation with nothing but truth? _Whole_ truths?"

"I would like that very much as well... my wonderful husband." Rumplestiltskin tightens his hold on her, tears welling in his eyes as she refers to him as her spouse like this. "Let's rest first?"

"An excellent idea."

Indeed, the notion of having a hopeful conversation with her is yet better when its preceded by sleeping in each other's arms once more. Neither of those things necessarily mean anything in their own right, but Rumplestiltskin is more optimistic than he has been for a considerable time now that they're together like this.

It's a huge relief to say the least that their gentle love and affection is still very much there, the new level of honesty and openness they've found only making that stronger.

Belle embraces him, guiding him to his favorite resting place in the world. Sighing in utter contentment when his head rests on her chest once more, Rumplestiltskin maintains his gentle hold on her as well while he drifts to sleep in her arms, chasing dreams of love and togetherness which might not be so far removed from reality after all.


End file.
